Music In The World
by MeinAwesomeness
Summary: Series of One-shots. See AN for details. Chapter One- AU, " 's okay, Artie. Just relax and enjoy some good ol' American music!" He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly how I wanted to spend the day..." Chapter Two now up! Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello, World! I have finally been convinced to upload something I've written. **

**Thank you, CloneD (you see what I did there? :D You should totally make that your Penname.) for being my beta, even though its technically not official. **

**Apologies in advance for any formatting errors. I've been working on the format alone for an hour now.**

**Note: For the song, Alfred is bolded, Iggy is italics, both is both.**

**Anyways, here's the first chapter. The song is Love Me Dead by Ludo, as you will clearly see later in the chapter.**

**Disclaimer – I can't sing and my drawing talent is minimal. I believe you can fill in the blanks…**

* * *

><p>"Hey, Artie!"<p>

The Brit turned around at the sound of his new boyfriend's voice. "It's Arthur, you git," he said, though any annoyance in his voice was easily overlooked by the faint red tinting his pale face. The American slung his arm over Arthur's shoulders, oblivious to his slight discomfort. He wasn't weak, mind you, but Alfred wasn't aware of his own strength.

"Aww, why can't I call you Artie? I mean," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leant in, "we are dating now..."

Arthur ducked out from underneath his arm, turning away to hide his flushed face. "Not here, Alfred," he said while smoothing out his shirt.

The two had decided to keep their relationship a secret to avoid all of the drama that comes with it. Not to mention Alfred had a reputation as the quarter back of the football team. Arthur, on the other hand, wasn't well known, or rather, not as popular. He was just one if those straight-A, stick in the mud type students to most. He didn't like people prying into his life, so he'd rather not tell. As far as everyone else knew, the two were both single, and no one would question it.

"So I can call you Artie when no one's around?" Alfred asked, the usual grin plastered over his face.

"To be honest, I'd prefer if you wouldn't," he said irritably, "though I'm sure you'll do it regardless." He let out an exasperated sigh, though Alfred noticed the corner of his lips twitching up.

"Ha ha! I know you like it!" he said with that obnoxious laugh of his. "Anyway, here's your CD back," he said, handing it over. "Your British music was pretty awesome, but the war isn't over yet!" He procured another case out from the bag over his shoulder, shoving it towards the Brit. "Now you have to listen to something from MY country!"

Arthur took it, muttering under his breath about how all the music here sounds the same, though after he chewed Alfred out the other week over _him_ complaining about_ his _music before he even heard it, he couldn't really decline. "Fine, I'll give it a go, but don't hold your breath."

"Whatever you say, Arti-thur," Alfred corrected, trying to make a mental note of the change. "So, you wanna go hang out somewhere later? Surely you won't be too busy studying tonight."

Arthur's eye involuntarily twitched at Alfred's awful grammar, though he decided to let it slide this time. "If you want, we could. I do have some homework, and I'm sure you do too, so we should probably get that done first. After that, I'm free."

"Sounds awesome! I'll text you as soon as 'm done! Maybe we could go to the-"

A bell chimed in the distance, though class was already out for the day. Alfred, however, jumped and glanced at his watch. "Shit! Practice is starting. I forgot!" He quickly spun around and began sprinting down the hallway, leaving his boyfriend to smirk at him, shaking his head. As if he knew Arthur was finding this hilarious, he yelled out, "See ya later, Artie!" effectively wiping the smirk of his face.

"Git!" He called back, heading out in the opposite direction. "Why is it always a competition with you?" he muttered to himself. As he walked out, he looked at the CD in his hands. "Ludo. Huh, haven't heard of them. Maybe they'll actually be somewhat decent..."

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><p>Really, how could a song be that catchy? I mean, it's not a bad song, but I can't stop listening to it. Sure it's a little suggestive, okay really suggestive, but I don't hate it. In fact, it's pretty good...Dammit! He did this on purpose!<p>

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><p>Arthur stood in the kitchen with his arms folded. Here was the one day he and Alfred had been waiting for for quite some time, and his brothers just decide to pop in for a visit. Without calling ahead. No warning. Now he was forced to stand back and "assist" his boyfriend while he cooked, without touching the food. Alfred didn't mind his cooking, in fact, he quite enjoyed it! It's not his fault his brothers are picky eaters, his food is just as good as Alfred's! They wouldn't even let him boil water! First they invade his house, and then start ordering him around! If Alfred hadn't stepped in, Arthur would have probably physically removed them from their house. Alfred didn't mind them being here, even if they did ruin his plans for the day. The two had only recently begun telling people, including their own families, that they were dating and had been for the past four years. Arthur's brothers had finally come to terms with the fact that he was hiding this from them for so long, and it didn't help that Alfred was a guy. Not that it really mattered to them, but it was still a little shock. Now Alfred was determined to make a good impression on them, no matter how many times Arthur told him it was unnecessary.<p>

"Cheer up, Artie! It's really no big deal."

"They weren't supposed to be here. Why can't they just go home?"

"Because they want to see their younger brother, that's all," he said, ruffling the Brit's already unkempt hair, that same grin stuck to his face.

"They won't even let me help cook. Stupid gits."

Alfred laughed loudly. " 's okay, Artie. No big deal. Here," he said, reaching over to the radio on the wall. "Just relax and enjoy some good ol' American music!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly how I wanted to spend the day..." He leant against the counter, a scowl stuck to his face.

Alfred turned it up louder when he found the station he was looking for, challenging the noise his boyfriend's brothers were making just outside the room.

_"...And next is Ludo's Love Me Dead!"_

Arthur froze. Alfred turned it up louder, resuming food preparation. Arthur caught him glancing over and cocked an eyebrow at him. "He'd better not be planning something..." he thought. Alfred smiled, singing along.

**'Love me cancerously, like a salt-sore soaked in the sea.'**

Arthur couldn't help it. He really couldn't. The song was just too catchy. He sang back.

_'"High maintenance" means you're a gluttonous queen,_

_Narcissistic and mean. '_

Alfred threw him a smirk, singing louder.

**'Kill me romantically,'**

Arthur threw one back, accepting his challenge.

_'Fill my soul with vomit then ask me for a piece of gum.'__  
><strong><br>**_**_'Bitter and-'_****_  
><em>**_  
><em>_' dumb,'_

They joined together:

**_'~You're my sugarplum_**

**_You're awful, I love you...~'_**

Alfred seemed to forget about what he was supposed to be doing, turning to face Arthur.

**'He moves through moonbeams slowly'**

Arthur smirked, a blush rising to his face when Alfred sang "he" instead of "she".

_'He knows just how to hold me'__  
><em>  
><strong>'And when his edges soften,'<strong>**  
><strong>  
><em>'His body is my coffin.'<em>_  
><em>  
><strong>'I know he drains me slowly'<strong>**  
><strong>  
><em>'He wears me down to bones in bed...'<em>

**_'~Must be the sign on my head, it says,_****_  
><em>****_"Oh love me dead!" Love me dead~'_**

_'You're a faith-healer on TV'_

**'You're an office park without any trees'**

**'Corporate and cold,'**

_' Gushing for gold-leave me alone.'_

**'You suck so passionately'**

_'You're a parasitic, psycho, filthy creature finger-bangin' my heart.'_

**'You call me up drunk, does the fun ever start?'**

**_'~You're hideous...and sexy!~'_**

The two continued singing, easily overpowering the volume of the radio. Contrary to Arthur's expectations, he found he was quite enjoying himself.

**_'~Must be the sign on my head, it says,_****_  
><em>****_"Oh love me dead!" Love me dead! Wow! Uh!~'_**

Alfred grabbed Arthur, dancing to the guitar break, before closing the gap.

**_'~Love me cancerously~'_**

**_'Brrrot-dot-da-da-da-da!'_**

They quickly separated from each other, except for an intertwined hand with which Alfred used to twirl Arthur around.

**_'Brrrot-dot-da-da-da-da!'_**

_'How's your new boy? Does he know about me?'__  
><em>  
><strong>'You've got the mark of the beast.'<strong>

**_'~You're born of a jackal! You're beautiful!~'_**

The two hadn't a care in the world. This was their day together, and no one could get in the way.

**_'~Wha' 'bout this sign on my head, it says, "Oh love me dead!"_****_  
><em>****_Love me dead! Love me dead! Love me dead!~'_**

They spun around the kitchen together one last time as the song drew to a close.

**_'~Oh...love me dead!~'_**

On the last note, Alfred leant over, hanging Arthur half out of the kitchen in a dip, both too focused on each other to notice the looks Arthur's brothers were giving them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For those of you who don't know, a dip is an actual dance move. I wanted to make sure I called it the right thing so I looked it up. If you don't know what it looks like, Wikipedia it. There's a picture.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! As the description says, I am making this a series. I'm working on chapter 2 as we speak, and kicking around a couple other ideas in my head, but I would love requests/suggestions. There's info on my profile about it, so you might want to check it out. **

**If you enjoyed reading this, send your thanks to CloneD, for talking me into uploading. (No, that's not her penname yet. She was in the process of getting an account last I heard. I just gotta talk her into making that her penname.)**

**I'm still if-y on the title, so if you come up with something better, feel free to share. **

**I also kindly ask that you review and give me your opinions. **

**~Awesomeness out.**


	2. Solos and Duets

**AN: I am so so sorry. Things happened. This was much much longer than I expected it to be. If you want to hear my excuses as to why this took well over a year, I'll sum them up at the end. For now, I hope you will enjoy this. **

**Also, even if you don't wish to read my excuses, I have some news at the bottom, so don't skip that.**

**Disclaimer: I am not a woodwind player. I play the trumpet. Thus, there may be some inaccuracies. Please forgive them. I only know what I've picked up from my woodwind siblings. There are some POV changes as well, but I think its pretty obvious when it switches and to who, so I didn't specify each time.**

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><p>Arthur Kirkland was deemed the most unapproachable student in the entire school. Those who tried to make friends with him were shoved away rather curtly. Most found him irritable and cynical, so they left him alone. He was a loner, but he was okay with it. However, that didn't mean he went unnoticed. Arthur was a musical genius. A child protégé. He was known for his skills on the English horn. Whenever he began to play, the entire room would grow quiet in order to listen. Because of his extraordinary talent, he was given solos numerous times in class. He wasn't the only good player though. There was a French flautist, in particular, who had only been playing for a few years before surpassing his directors and the rest of the class. The two didn't get along well, though respected each other's skill. There were a few who were jealous of Arthur getting solos for almost every piece their band played, but none would ever deny that he deserved it.<p>

Arthur didn't have any real friends. He didn't ever care to make any. He didn't have much going for him anyways, besides his musical talent, so outside of band, he was prone to bullying. No matter the circumstance, however, he always held his head high and ignored them, rather than let it get to him. He knew they wouldn't stop if he asked, and he really didn't feel like wasting time he could use to study or practice. Every day, once school had ended, he would walk back to the band room, get his instrument, and go to the same practice room to play until the staff told him he had to leave. He even had the room reserved for himself so he didn't have to worry about fighting for a room.

Little did he know, everyday on the other side of the door sealing himself off from the rest of the world, groups of students would sit in the band room, listening. No one would talk when he played; it was rude to those trying to listen. Some would work on homework there thanks to the quietness; others came by simply to listen. Different people came every day, though by the time Arthur had finished, they had all left. The practice room next to his was pretty much abandoned. No one would use it so long as Arthur was playing.

The directors knew Arthur had talent and they wanted the world to know. They constantly gave him opportunities to be heard. They also knew that no one would ever play accompaniment when he was playing. No one wanted to stop listening.

* * *

><p>Arthur sat down in his chair, only about 5 minutes before rehearsal began. He had already warmed up and checked pitches in his practice room. Relaxing back into his chair, he held his English Horn to his chest securely, waiting for class to begin. There was another man who followed their director up to the front of the band. As he stepped up onto the podium, the noise of warm-ups stopped.<p>

"I have some important news today," their director began. "This is Mr. Lewis. He has asked if he could conduct a piece for the concert coming up next month. The rest of the staff and I agreed, and we hope you will give him the same respect you give us."

Their director stepped down, allowing Mr. Lewis to step up. He began to talk about how 'excited he was to work with them' though Arthur wasn't really paying attention. He still sat lazily in his chair, the usual small scowl on his face. He disliked getting a new director to conduct the band. They had to go through so many run throughs of easy music so he could get the 'feel' of the new band. That or they play music that's too easy in general. It's tiresome, really. Mr. Lewis handed Francis a stack of music, asking him to hand it out. "Great," Arthur thought, "now I'll have to see the frog's face. There goes my morning..." His scowl got noticeably bigger. As Francis made his way through the rows, he made sure to be as showy as possible, taking his time. When he finally got to Arthur, he "_accidently_" dropped the sheet music.

"Excusez-moi*," he said with a smirk. Arthur sent him a vicious glare, though holding his tongue. Arthur quickly grabbed his music, placing it on his stand. Francis was only able to take two steps before meeting the same fate as Arthur's music. Arthur's foot was cocked out slightly, a smirk playing on his face this time.

"That's for yesterday, frog," he spat. Francis grudgingly pulled himself up, glaring back at Arthur as he gathered up the rest of the papers that flew out of his hands when he fell.

Mr. Lewis stood in shock at the behavior of the two students. _"Did they really just try that?"_ he thought, raising an eyebrow in their direction. The rest of the class, however, acted as though nothing unusual happened. Most didn't even blink an eye. He decided not to say anything this time, but he would definitely keep an eye on them. Finally, the flautist finished handing out the music, moving much faster around the second half of the band that he did the first. He took his seat with an air of arrogance.

"Okay," Mr. Lewis began, "let's start this from the beginning." He brought his hands up, a flurry of instruments rising too. Arthur had straightened up, holding perfect posture though he didn't even play in the beginning of the piece. Mr. Lewis began to conduct, a rush of music immediately forming.

Arthur looked ahead in the piece, noting the lack of anything interesting to play. _"Great,"_ he thought, _"I get to play background parts..."_ He scanned the pages, finding more notes the further he went. Finally, towards the end of the third page, he found a good part. Keeping an eye on where they were in class, he began fingering through the section. Sadly, class time ran out before they even got to the second page, having to restart several times. Dismayed, he put away his instrument carefully, putting it in his locker. Arthur shouldered his bag and left the band room after everyone else, excited to play after school.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Arthur got to his seat earlier, keeping an eye out for Francis. He'd probably try to get him back again, so he was on his guard. People began filing in as time drew shorter. He saw Francis flounce in, a mischievous smirk on his face. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him. Mr. Lewis came in before anything could happen, however, quieting down the class.<p>

"Let's start on the second page. I want to cover as much of this as possible today." Arthur straightened up again, content that he'd actually get to play today. Even if he only had non-melodic parts, he had to admit the song was beautiful. The music built emotionally, without being extremely slow. The ebb and flow of tone and volume as sections joined with the melody and others dropped it. _"I guess it's really not that bad at all,"_ Arthur thought. _"Really surprising for a new director..."_

* * *

><p>Alfred held his saxophone, fingering along as the melody passed through the band. He was on second part, though after spotting cues later on in the piece, he had acquired a first part too. Sure enough, there was a sax solo. Of course he wouldn't be able to get it; too many people were ahead of him. <em>"No hurt in learning it anyways, right?"<em> he said to himself. Alfred was a good player, or at least he thought he was, though he didn't want to have the spotlight. Unlike Francis, he didn't like to flaunt his skills to everyone. Not to mention, second part carried the harmonies more often. Sure, he didn't get solos, but it was a decent sacrifice. Besides, being second part meant he could sit almost directly behind Arthur. Alfred loved watching him play, especially when he thought no one was paying attention. The way he moved, ever so slightly, with the music, how his fingers traveled across his English Horn flawlessly, how peaceful he looked while playing, everything was perfect. Alfred had always wanted to say something to him, but he wasn't sure how he would react. Arthur was unpredictable. Instead, Alfred would just sit back and watch, admiring his talent in secret.

* * *

><p>They were working faster through the piece than yesterday, which made Arthur excited. It looked like they would make it through the third page. The music began to build more and more, growing exponentially. At the climax, it suddenly faded away completely, leading into the part Arthur was waiting for. He began to play, a ghost of a smile visible on his lips, even through his embouchure. After practicing the part over and over again the day before, he played it flawlessly, though not mechanically. He closed his eyes for a moment, though opened them when he found, in context, the music wasn't settling right. There was something missing. As the solo ended, Arthur's eyebrows became furrowed, trying to figure out what was wrong. When the last note was released, rather than continuing, Mr. Lewis cut them off.<p>

"That was really great, but," he began, flipping through the score, "where is the sax addition?"

* * *

><p>Alfred listened to Arthur's solo, completely forgetting his own part on the sheet. He couldn't help it; it was as though his mind went blank and he forgot how to play. Something interrupted the trance, suddenly. He focused on Arthur, noting he had suddenly become much more tense than usual. There was a subtle shift in the music, almost undetectable. He could practically hear him frowning through the tone. He shifted slightly to see past Arthur, wondering if someone did something to irritate him while he played. Francis had his head turned slightly, trying to watch Arthur. Alfred would have been convinced he had done something if it wasn't for the slightly confused look on his face. <em>"He must have noticed too,"<em> he thought. The final note rang out, leaving a thick silence behind, only to be broken by Mr. Lewis.

"That was really great, but where was the sax entrance?"

Alfred was shocked. He hadn't even noticed there was supposed to be one. When there was no response, he looked towards the first chair player, who was avoiding eye contact with everyone. In fact, all of the people on the part were staring away. Arthur turned around slightly to get a look himself, his expression unreadable.

"Well, would any of you like to play the solo?" Mr. Lewis asked.

Several people shifted uncomfortably. Alfred felt a little bad himself for not playing the cues. No one volunteered. The class remained quiet for a long minute before the bell rang overhead, dismissing everyone. Alfred had never seen anyone move as fast as Arthur did as he left the band room before everyone else.

* * *

><p>Alfred sat down in the abandoned practice room in the smallest band room. It was just a matter of seconds before Arthur went into the other practice room next to it, followed by his secret fan club. No one played in the adjacent practice room, as the echo would disrupt Arthur's playing. Not literally, but emotionally. Alfred had his saxophone with him, though he had no intention to actually play. He heard Arthur enter the room next to his and soon began to hear him begin to warm up. He played the solo from class several times, Alfred fingering the sax part along with him. He really did want to play with him, but he was so good, he outshone everybody. Arthur didn't mean to, he just did. Alfred hoped one day he could be good enough to play with him.<p>

* * *

><p>For the rest of the week, no one would join in on Arthur's solo. Most times, Mr. Lewis would offer it again, and then move on, not working the part in class. At the start of the new week, Mr. Lewis hoped someone would be willing to take it after the weekend to practice, but there were still no takers. By then, he was more than a little frustrated on what to do.<p>

Arthur took his time putting up one day, not wanting to be near the crowd of people working their ways to their lockers. When he got up, he happened to overhear Mr. Lewis talking to someone.

"If no one will play when he plays, we may have to give the solo to someone else, regardless of who is supposed to play it in the score. We can't do this without the saxophone part."

Arthur looked up in horror, though he was glad they didn't notice him. He hurried off to his locker, keeping his head low. "Why me?" he thought. "Why does this have to happen to me?" He held back the tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

* * *

><p>[The next day]<p>

Alfred sat in his seat, looking around the room. _"Normally Arthur is here by now,"_ he thought, noticing his empty chair. _"Maybe he's just running a little late..." _Alfred began his warm ups, though still wondering where he could be. As the time ticked away, he began to worry if he was sick or something. _"He didn't look sick yesterday, and he normally comes if he's sick anyways... At least for band..." _He looked around again, unable to spot him anywhere. Before he could do anything, Mr. Lewis stepped up to the podium, starting class. Alfred tried to force his attention away from the empty chair in front of him, though his eyes always lingered back. Not really paying attention to his surroundings, he jumped almost a foot in the air when the door was thrown open.

Arthur ran into the band room late, breathing heavily. He made his way to the front of the room, quietly apologizing several times for his tardiness. Mr. Lewis gave him a stern look, though let it slide. Arthur quickly made his way to his seat. The band resumed playing while he tried to catch his breath. Luckily, he hadn't missed much. Quickly checking over his English Horn, he got ready to play. He went the most of the hour without playing, as the director was running individual parts. Towards the end, Mr. Lewis decided to run the whole piece. As he played, he noticed he sounded airy and a little out of tune, getting worse on some notes. He felt it getting a little harder to play and wondered if he had chipped his reed. When his solo came, he closed his eyes, trying to play the best he could. Luckily, the first couple notes came out just fine, maybe a little out of tune however, and he relaxed a little. Arthur thought he was safe, until, not even two measures later, his instrument made the worst sounding squeak he had ever heard. Eyes shooting open, he abruptly stopped playing, taking the instrument from his mouth and surveying it. Sure enough, there was damage to the reed, though that was the least of his problems...

* * *

><p>Alfred knew something was wrong the moment Arthur started playing. His whole body was tense and there was something wrong with the pitch. Most of the band was covering him up, but he could still hear the difference, though it was faint. He was worried as to why Arthur was so late. When the director continued conducting as they approached the solo, Alfred became nervous. The band was loud, and he could still hear the problems with his pitch. If he played alone, everyone would hear. <em>'Maybe it's not actually that bad... Maybe I just hear it 'cause I'm closer to him...'<em> he thought. However, when Arthur began playing, his worries didn't go away. When he heard the squeak, he felt awful. He watched as Arthur went rigid, knowing something was terribly wrong. Alfred watched him check his instrument frantically, ignoring the director who decided to move on.

The bell rang minutes later. Alfred quickly put away his instrument, though no one was able to beat Arthur out of the room yet again. Alfred quickly took off after him, though when he entered the hallway, Arthur was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he determined he had completely left the hallway, and decided to do likewise himself. Maybe he would talk to him afterschool...

* * *

><p>To Alfred's dismay, when he went to Arthur's practice room, there was no one playing. The usual crowd wasn't there, either. The band room itself seemed abandoned, save for him and the occasional person poking their head in to see if Arthur was playing in there. Sighing, he entered his own room, putting together his sax. <em>'You know, maybe it's for the better that I couldn't find him. What would I say after all? "Hey, dude, I heard you mess up. What's up with that, bro?" Yeah, right. Like that would go over well...'<em> he thought. Alfred played a few warm up notes before practicing the solo, putting as much emotion into it as he could. Halfway through, he heard the sound of something clicking and stopped playing, his eyes widening in shock at the person now standing in the doorway.

"Can... Can you please play the solo again?" Arthur asked, his voice shaking. There were tears running down his face and he clutched his English Horn in his hand.

Alfred sat still, momentarily dumbstruck, before jerking his head in a nod, preparing to play. He heard the door click shut again as he drew in a breath to play.

Arthur leaned against the door, sliding down it until he sat against it, eyes closed. He remained that way, unmoving besides the rise and fall of his chest and the gentle stream of tears still escaping from his eyes.

When Alfred finished playing, there was a long period of silence. Finally, Arthur spoke up.

"Why wouldn't you ever play in class with me?"

Alfred opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for words. "I... You play so amazingly, and I didn't want to take away from your solo..."

"Stupid, not playing takes away from the whole piece! It was written for both parts to be played! Even I could tell that the first time I had played it!"

Alfred looked down. "I'm sorry. It's just... I'm not good enough to play it."

There was yet more silence.

"Nonsense."

Alfred's head shot up, staring at Arthur in surprise.

"It doesn't matter if you're good enough to play it, so long as you give it good effort. There's no harm in trying."

Alfred hung his head again. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. At least you want to play the solo with me..." Arthur said, more tears sliding down.

"Arthur, what do you mean? What's wrong?" Alfred asked, concerned.

"No one... No one ever wants to play with me... No one ever does. Except now that someone finally wants to try, I-I c-can't..." he said, his voice shaking worse.

Alfred sat there for a second, taking it all in. "Arthur, the reason why no one ever plays with you isn't because they don't want to, it's because they want to hear you. Everyone loves it when you play. I thought you knew that..." He tried to smile for a second, though it quickly faded away when he saw the look on Arthur's face. "Arthur, what's wrong? And what did you mean you can't..." he trailed off, spotting the instrument in his hand. Unnoticed before, there were several strips of black tape wrapped around his instrument, attempting to close up a crack running down it. He gasped slightly, wondering how something like that could have happened. Alfred stood from his chair, setting his sax down, and walked over to Arthur. Kneeling down, he ran a finger over the crack. "What... What happened?"

* * *

><p><strong>*flashback*<strong>

_Arthur ran down the halls, instrument in hand. He couldn't be late. If he was gone, they may have a real reason to take the solo from him. Being late means he's irresponsible, after all. He was almost to the band hall when a force came from seemingly nowhere. The next thing Arthur knew was he had been slammed against the wall, wind knocked out of him on contact._

_"Hey, twerp, what's the big hurry?"_

"Great,"_ Arthur thought, "_just what I needed. I doubt this morning can get any worse..."_ He was unable to reply, trying to catch his breath. A sharp pressure was digging into his shoulders. "Answer me, punk."_

__

_"Nothing..." he wheezed out. He gripped his English Horn tightly, not wanting it to slip from his hand. "Just... Going to class..."_

__

_"Of course you are," the other laughed. "Class doesn't start for another hour!"_

__

_"Rehearsal starts early..." _'Dumb arse,'_ he added mentally._

__

_"Ha, running off to your little music class, twerp? Looks like you're going to be late today!"_

__

_Arthur was still struggling to intake a full breath of air, the hands on him suppressing his lungs. His vision was a little spotted._

__

_"Hey, what's this?" Arthur felt the pressure lighten slightly as his arm was jerked forward._

__

_"Don't you touch that!" he yelled, a small cough escaping him. He jerked his instrument away from the other, trying to push him off._

__

_"Excuse me, princess," he laughed. "I just want to see what it is!" Arthur felt his arm jerk again, his instrument almost slipping from his hand as it was pulled on._

__

_"Leave me alone!" he yelled, bringing his foot up and planting it in the other's gut. He was freed for just a moment, stumbling off a few steps, his lungs trying to fill with air._

__

_Suddenly, a force struck Arthur in the back, causing him to come crashing to the ground. Already unable to breathe, he forced himself back up, sprinting as hard as he could towards the band room._

* * *

><p>Tears were still streaming down Arthur's face. "I'm not sure when it happened exactly, but I think it was when I fell."<p>

Alfred was shocked. He knew Arthur was never popular amongst the school (besides band), but he never thought he would suffer from this much bullying.

"I tried to fix it myself, but..." Arthur trailed off, his voice shaking. "I...I can barely play a n-note..."

Alfred placed an arm on Arthur's shoulder. "Maybe someone could fix it. I know it's cracked, but surely if you took it to the shop..."

Arthur shook his head. "I c-can't. I don't have the m-money to take it to the shop..." He looked away, dejected.

'He can't afford it?' Alfred thought.

Alfred must have shown this on his face because Arthur explained, "It was a gift from my mother before... she died..." He sighed. "I've had it since I was younger. When I began to show an interest in music, she went out and got me one. We've never had much money in my family, but she found a way to get it..." Alfred noted the faint smile on his face. "She taught me how to play and read music."

"Wow," Alfred said, "I didn't know you've been playing for that long... I always thought you just practiced a whole bunch and had lessons..."

"Actually, I've never had lessons."

The look on Alfred's face was priceless. He couldn't believe someone who played that well had never had professional lessons before. "Seriously?!"

Arthur nodded. "I practice a lot, but only on my own. When everyone else was taking beginners band, I just went to one of the offices and either learned more complex theory, since I was pretty much self taught, or just practiced. Occasionally a director would sit in while I played, but that was it."

"Huh," Alfred said, lost for words. There was a moment of silence. "So, what did you do any other time something happened to it?"

"There were never really any other times. I take care of it. I'm not careless, git," Arthur replied sharply.

"I didn't mean that..." Alfred said. "Normally things just happen, like bent keys or broken reeds..."

"I make my own reeds. They're too expensive to buy them. And I don't trust others with my English Horn, so I don't have to worry about carelessness..."

"I see... Have you talked to a director about it?"

"No..." Arthur's face fell. "Although, Mr. Lewis saw it, I believe. He didn't look happy..."

"Why don't you tell someone? Maybe there's a spare you could borrow until you can fix it..."

Arthur made a face at 'spare'. "I'd rather not. They don't play as nicely, and... I don't know when I'll ever be able to g-get it fixed..." His eyes started feeling wet again.

Alfred paused for a moment before asking. "Arthur, what if I took it to the shop for you?"

Arthur's head snapped up. "W-what?"

"I could take it in for you. I could pay for it." Alfred repeated.

It was Arthur's turn to be shocked. "B-but... Wouldn't it be expensive?"

"Maybe a little, but it's no big deal. The owner of the shop is really nice, so he might give me a discount or something."

Arthur struggled to find words. "B-but... Why?" he finally asked.

"Because I'd rather buy you a whole new instrument than never hear you play again."

Arthur opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing how to respond, a faint blush rising to his face.

"Would you let me take it to the shop for you? I promise to take very good care of it." Alfred smiled lightly.

A moment passed as the two sat there. Slowly, Arthur nodded his head. "What all will they do to it there?"

"Normally, they give it a maintenance check, fixing everything that isn't working right. Sometimes the replace keys or pads, things like that."

"Can you make sure they don't fix things that are fine? I know there are a few things I fixed myself, and I don't want them to get messed up..."

"If you'd like, you can come with to bring it in. You can tell them what you don't need them to fix yourself," Alfred offered.

"Okay..." Arthur said nervously. "When are you going to go?"

"I could take it in today, if he's not busy."

"I think that would be best... I'll go get my case, then..." Arthur stood up, Alfred following suit. As Arthur left the room, Alfred turned back to his saxophone and began putting it away as well.

* * *

><p>Arthur clutched the case tightly in his arms as he and Alfred entered the shop. The man behind the counter smiled and said hello to Alfred as they made their way over. Alfred had his usual smile plastered to his face.<p>

"What did you do this time, Alfred?" the owner half joked.

"Actually, nothing this time! I'm here for my friend." Arthur gingerly set the case down on the counter. As the owner opened it to look, he began fidgeting with his hands, uncomfortable with others handling his instrument.

"This is a nice English Horn. I take it you've never brought it in here before?" Arthur shook his head. "Have you ever taken it to a shop before?"

"I've always fixed it up myself..." he replied quietly.

"It's nicely done. How long have you had it?"

"I don't know... Maybe ten years..."

The man looked at him funny. "Ten years? And you've never once taken it in to get fixed?"

Arthur fidgeted nervously. "N-no..."

"That's really amazing. Most students bring instruments in before playing for even a year to fix something. For an instrument as fragile as this, I never would have thought it possible." He picked it up for further inspection. "What's all this here?"

"When I was younger, my fingers weren't long enough to reach some of the keys, so my mum tweaked them to fit. I still use them sometimes..."

"Makes sense. So, I take it you're not here for some ordinary check-up, right?"

Arthur nodded. "It, er... Cracked." he said, lowering his face.

"Hmm, " the owner said, looking at the instrument closer. "That is a pretty bad crack. How exactly did this happen? It's not a normal crack from heavy use or weather conditions, and I can't see someone as careful as you accidently cause it."

Arthur shifted nervously. "Someone pushed me down while I was holding it."

"I see." He studied it for a few minutes, checking the other joints over. "It's pretty bad, but I think I can fix it." Both Arthur and Alfred let out a sigh of relief.

"How long d'you think it will take?" Alfred asked.

"At least a week. Possibly longer."

'A week,' Arthur thought. He had never gone that long without it since he got it, and it made him uneasy. However, it looked like he didn't have any other choice. "Okay," he mumbled softly.

"Will that be all, boys?" the owner asked, closing up the case and placing it on a shelf behind him.

"I think so," Alfred answered. "Hey, Arthur, why don't you go look around for a bit while I take care of the paperwork?"

Arthur nodded and began to wander around the store, looking at the various instrument accessories and music. It wasn't long before Alfred called him back over. The owner passed back to Alfred what looked like a receipt. Arthur glanced at it and blanched. 'There's no way I could ever afford that,' he thought.

Alfred and the owner said their goodbyes, Arthur giving a small wave. He followed Alfred out of the small shop, internally fretting over the amount Alfred was paying to get his instrument fixed. Alfred seemed oblivious to Arthur's discomfort, breaking the silence. "See, Arthur? He can fix it! Nothing to worry 'bout!"

"It was really expensive, though..."

"It's fine, Arthur. He gave me a discount 'cause I bring my sax in so much. Besides, it's not like I have to pay for it all at once."

"Still, that's a lot of money. I doubt I could ever pay you back..." Arthur said, crestfallen.

"It's okay, Artie! If it really bothers you that much then let's make a deal. I know you want someone to play that solo with you, right?" Arthur nodded, not sure as to what he was getting at. "Well, I'd like to play it, but I don't think I can do it yet."

"You played it fine earlier," Arthur reminded him.

"I know, but... I'd feel better if you'd help me with it. Ya know, like lessons or something."

"You want me to give you lessons when I've never even had them myself?" Arthur clarified.

"Yeah. I mean, you're amazing at playing, and I think you could help me play better. You could listen to me play and tell me what to fix and what doesn't sound right, and stuff." Alfred answered, missing the irony.

Arthur sighed. "I guess I could, but how would this pay you back?"

"Lessons generally cost money, and they get more expensive with better instructors. If you gave me free lessons, we would be even in no time."

"Alfred, keep in mind, I play English Horn, not Sax. Also, I'm just a student, not a professional."

"Arthur," Alfred replied, mimicking his tone, "you said it yourself that the first time you played the solo you could tell there was more missing. Besides, I'm positive that if you started offering to give others lessons, you would have a very, very long line of people wanting you to help them."

"I honestly doubt that, Alfred," he retorted.

"People sit outside the practice room you play in everyday before and after school listening to you play. You're really good."

Arthur felt his face heat up. "I've never seen anyone listening..."

"Because you stay later than everyone else. There's a reason no one ever takes your room or practices in the one next to it, even if all the others are full. They don't want to play over you, nor be compared to you."

Arthur remained quiet for a moment. "Is... Is that why no one ever plays with me?" he asked timidly.

"That and they'd rather listen to you than play with or over you."

"I see..." he said after a moment. "Do you really want me to give you 'lessons'?" he asked, miming quotes with his fingers.

"I really would. I think you could really help me get better..."

"I guess I could then. When do you want to have them?"

"You normally stay late after school, let's just have them then."

"Okay, I'll be in the practice rooms. Don't be late."

Alfred smiled. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

* * *

><p>The following week the two met up every day after school. Arthur showed Alfred the trick to reading music quickly and easily and his music skill increased. He could play the solo easily. Arthur longed to play it with him. The people who used to listen to Arthur play had sometimes come to listen to Alfred, though not always consistent.<p>

"Hey, Artie, the shop called and said your instrument would be ready in the morning. I'm going to pick it up before school tomorrow, okay?"

Arthur's face lit up in spite of the childish nickname. "Really? Do take care of it. I'll be here early. I'd like to play it before school starts..."

Alfred nodded. "I'll get it here as soon as possible!"

* * *

><p>Arthur paced in front of the school doors anxiously. He knew he was here ridiculously early but he couldn't wait. Finally, he saw, from a distance, the little piece of hair that always stood up on Alfred's head. He resisted the urge to run out and grab his instrument from him, not wanting him to accidently drop it in surprise. Alfred walked through the doors moments later, spotting Arthur and running up to him.<p>

"Artie!" He called.

"Let me see it," Arthur said, taking the case. Alfred gladly handed it over to the nervous boy, who began to inspect it. "Okay, everything looks fine..."

"You said you wanted to practice a little before school, right? I figured we could play the solo together." Alfred pulled out his sax.

"Fine by me," Arthur said, wanting to see if it was working again. The crack was gone, though he could spot small scratches where it used to be. The two headed for the practice rooms, residing in Arthur's now that his instrument was fixed. Alfred let him warm up first wanting to listen to the sound he hadn't heard for some time now. Once Arthur was satisfied with the sound, he sat back to let Alfred warm up. He loved how Alfred played. He was never too loud or abrasive. Unlike the other saxophone players, he didn't like to brag or show off his talent, a quality Arthur greatly appreciated.

"Okay, I'm ready," Alfred said, breaking Arthur from his thoughts.

"Well, let's start here before the solo to lead into it."

"Okay." The two started playing, Alfred focusing on his part. Arthur got into the music, closing his eyes and playing from memory. The phrase before the solo ended and Alfred listened for Arthur's entrance before his. As the notes came out, he found himself lost in Arthur's playing, closing his eyes as well, letting the music carry him.

"Alfred, there's no point in practicing together if you don't play."

He opened his eyes. "Wha... Oh, sorry..." His face flushed slightly. "I just haven't heard you play that in so long... I guess I forgot to play..."

Arthur sighed, though smiling faintly. "Forgot to play, huh? Maybe this will help." He got up, taking his pencil and writing darkly on Alfred's music 'PLAY HERE' with far too many arrows pointing to the solo. "That should help, no?" Arthur said, smirking as he sat back down.

"I don't know," Alfred said frowning. "I think it needs a few more arrows."

Arthur rolled his eye, smiling faintly. "Let's just try it again, shall we?"

Alfred nodded, giving him a wide smile before immersing himself in his music as they began again. This time, Alfred did remember to play, fingers fumbling slightly at the beginning, gaining confidence as he went. He found himself closing his eyes again, this time playing from memory as well. The two played beautifully, ending together.

"That was much better, Alfred."

"Thanks," he said, smiling nervously.

"Alfred, will you go tell Mr. Lewis that I'd like to play the solo in class again now that my instrument is fixed? You should head to class soon, too."

"I'll let him know, Artie. Don't be late this time, okay?"

"Don't worry. Just don't 'forget to play' again in class. I don't want all of our work to be for nothing..."

"Gotcha!" he said, putting his sax away, heading out of the practice room. "See ya, Artie!"

"It's Arthur, you git!" he called back. He could hear Alfred's laughter as the door closed behind him. Shaking his head, he returned to his beloved English Horn and continued playing.

* * *

><p>"We're going to run the whole piece today," Mr. Lewis said.<p>

Francis immediately had a problem with it. "But, Monsieur, who is playing the solo? Seeing as someone has been... Incapable, non?" He shot a smirk to Arthur.

"Shut your mouth, frog! I am perfectly capable of playing the solo! In fact, I doubt you could ever play it nicer than I could!"

"That's enough, you two," Mr. Lewis called. "Keep it up and no one gets the solo." The two turned away, not wanting to anger their director any further. "Now, I'd like to get started. From the beginning!"

The band began, playing with expertise after working on the piece for the past two weeks. Arthur was a little nervous about playing the solo in front of everyone after what happened the last time, but it was nothing compared to what Alfred was feeling. Alfred wasn't used to playing out in front of everyone at all. He got nervous just by playing for one person. On top of that, he was playing a different part from what he was assigned, and playing the solo with Arthur. He focused on the music, trying not to think about what he was about to do. As the solo grew closer, the notion to just not play grew stronger, but the thought of how disappointed Arthur would be after how much they had worked on it kept his resolve. Soon, the solo came, the two both taking a deep breath to calm themselves before playing. To Alfred's relief, his fears of crashing and burning never came true. He closed his eyes, imagining he was just with Arthur, playing together in the practice room like they had done so many times. Absorbed in his mind and the music, he couldn't feel the eyes of the entire band on just him.

When the duet began, Mr. Lewis was so surprised to finally hear the sax part, he forgot to conduct. When he realized this, he was even more surprised at how well the two played together, both playing with their eyes closed. Through all the musical moments, the crescendos and decrescendos, the runs and the fermatas, never once did they lose each other. Even the release of the final note was perfect, lingering for just a second in the silence.

The two boys held onto the silence for a moment before lowering their instruments. Alfred opened his eyes, noticing all the others staring back, suddenly feeling nervous. Sinking into his seat, he smiled sheepishly at Mr. Lewis before looking down and fiddling with his saxophone. Arthur, on the other hand, was in complete bliss. He didn't care anyone was staring. He finally got to play in class again, additionally, the duet. Not a solo, but a duet. He turned his head back slightly, shooting Alfred a small smile in appreciation.

In the class, Mr. Lewis was the first to regain control of his vocal chords, clearing his throat. "Well, I believe we've found our soloists. You two, be sure to stay after class so I can talk to you."

When class had ended, both students hung back like they were told. Alfred was nervous, never having been asked to before. Arthur acted like this was nothing new.

"So, Alfred, you will commit to playing the solo with Arthur then?" Mr. Lewis asked once the others left.

"Yes sir."

"You know that means multiple practice sessions together, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"And you can't back out of it. The band will be counting on you. I don't care if you two grow tired of each other's company, you're stuck together until we're done, understand?"

"Sir, if I may," Arthur interrupted, "we already have been playing together for some time now..."

Mr. Lewis looked shocked. "Arthur, you just got your instrument fixed, did you not?"

"Well yes, but we played all morning and I've been helping him with it while I couldn't play..."

"I really want to play the solo with Arthur, Mr. Lewis," Alfred confirmed.

"Well, I can't tell you no after hearing that, but don't let me down. There's no time to find a replacement before the concert, and I was just about to scrap this piece until you finally joined. Keep it up, you two." Mr. Lewis said, dismissing them, leaving himself.

Arthur turned to Alfred, smiling. "See? You did perfect. I told you you would."

Alfred gave his signature grin. "Thanks, Artie, but I really couldn't have done it without you..."

"it's Arthur. Just because you have the solo doesn't mean you can give me pet names."

"Fine, sheesh. ...Arthur, even when this piece is over, do you still want to, you know, practice together?" Alfred asked, looking a little nervous.

"What, you don't want to? I mean, it's okay if you don't, we don't have too if you don't want too..."

"No, I do. I really do."

Arthur blinked twice. "You really do?"

"Yeah. Except, we don't have to only practice, ya know..."

"What do you mean?"

"We could, I dunno... Go to the movies, or something?" Alfred felt it hard to meet Arthur's eyes, feeling his face heat up.

Arthur felt his face heat up too, upon realization of what he was asking. "S-sure, I mean, I guess I could... If you want..."

Alfred broke out in a huge grin. "Sweet!"

Arthur smiled nervously, unsure as to what he should expect from his new found friendship. "Promise to meet me in my usual practice room after school?"

"Of course, Artie. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"That's lovely, but it's still Arthur, git," Arthur said, cheeks tinted red.

Alfred grinned. "Keep telling yourself that, Artie."

* * *

><p>For a while, people thought it was rude for that saxophone player to keep playing over the English Horn protégé after school in the practice room. A couple times, it was discussed to confront him, whoever he was, now that the beloved music made by the grumpiest kid in the school was back, but no one really acted on it. They figured Mr. Grumpy Eyebrows would do something about it. One day, someone finally decided to do something about it. Boldly, they left the other listeners and made their way to the practice rooms. Passing the reserved room, they went to the next one over, hand on the door handle, about to turn it, when they realized no one was inside. They moved down to the next one, no one. The next one, still no one. Confused, they went back to the first, peering inside the little window, seeing the saxophonist playing with the grumpy kid. Even more shocking, the grumpy kid was smiling. Truly smiling. They returned to the group of listeners, too shocked for words. That day, they stopped complaining about the saxophone interrupting the English Horn. Instead, they began to appreciate it, fully listening to both players as one rather than just hearing two individuals.<p>

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

Excusez-moi*: French for excuse me

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. <strong>

**As for what took so long on this, (the abridged version) I first lost my inspiration in band when we stopped playing the piece that, well, inspired me. In this time, however, I still wrote other things, but I didn't work on this one. Then I did hit a bit of depression, on and off over the year. I'm better now, so I hope it wont delay me again. Additionally, I participated in NaNoWriMo, and I actually won. Now, for me, that's a serious accomplishment, because the last two years, I flopped. In the fall, I still had marching band and football games, so I got behind, but I stayed up late the final week and rewarded myself every 500 or so words with a Girl Scout Cookie. That's the secret to NaNo. GS Cookies. I lost so much sleep, I couldn't tell you what day of the week it was, only what day of November. After that, I had to take a break from writing. Around February and March, I hit some more depression, but I turned it around through writing. Until April and May. Then it came back full force one night, and... well, I may have some depressing stuff to post, though I haven't decided if I will. After that, I remembered how much I really love writing and I decided to pick this story back up and just finish it. ...Then I went on vacation for a month. But there it is. Done. Took me over 2 hours to edit the thing. **

**I am so so sorry, though. Really. I feel terrible for making you all wait, even if there's only a few of you, because that's a few people I let down. I feel like this only happened because I tried to set a deadline for myself. In fact, I told CloneD yesterday that I would have this one up today for sure, and here it is, 30 minutes til Doctor Who comes on, and I'm still typing. **

**On to my announcements.**

**To start, I have an idea for the next chapter to this, and I started to write it, but i got stuck. I NEED YOUR HELP. ANYONE'S HELP. I don't want to give anything away for those who hate spoilers, so I'll tell you the best I can without giving hings away.**

**I need pickup lines. Any you can give me is fine, but ones that France would say are more needed than the others. Also, it is an AU (because I love AU's) but if you only have country specific ones, feel free to share. They may help me come up with more on my own. Everyone who gives me any input will be recognized and I will be sure to credit he specific ones I use. **

**Next, I mentioned my depressing fics I wrote. I am willing to share them, cause writing them helped me vent out my frustrations, and to me, that's inspiration. Even if it's kind of unwanted. But, I want to know if anyone would want to read them. They need some work, which I don't mind giving them, but... Well, just let me know. Pm me or something.**

**Third, I may or may not be getting a laptop soon. I did discover that my new phone has Word, and that I can upload stories from my phone alone, but I type much slower because the keyboard lags, and if I don't stop and save constantly, it will crash and I'll lose stuff. It's already happened to me twice today. -_-" If I do get one, hopefully, I'll be posting much more frequently. No promises, though. I'm not taking the risk...**

**Finally, I really hope you enjoyed reading this. Especially for that long of a wait. Even if you hated it, it would be great if you left a review. Every time I get one, I feel so warm and fuzzy inside, I feel like rolling around on my bed like HRE, hugging a pillow and squealing. Even follows and favorites do that to me. I absolutely love it. **

**PS. I may be changing the title of this soon. I thought of a better one some months ago, but I've forgotten it. Hopefully it will come back to me soon...**

**Until next time,**

**~Awesomeness Out~**


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